Chapter 12 - THE FUNERAL REAGAN PLANNED
Dana placed guards outside the rehabilitation center and June’s diner.
Carter remained invisible.
Then Reagan’s attorney announced that she wanted to cooperate.
She offered evidence against corrupt police officers in exchange for protection. Her information led to four arrests, including the detective who had helped Victor cover up the warehouse fire.
But Reagan refused to reveal Carter’s location.
“She still believes she can save him,” Dana said.
“No. She believes she can control him.”
I returned to the house with a police escort.
Inside Reagan’s bedroom, we found designer clothes, jewelry and photographs of a life built from other people’s pain.
Behind a false panel in her closet was a file labeled CAMDEN—FINAL ARRANGEMENTS.
It contained a forged death certificate, a funeral program and photographs of an empty casket.
Reagan had staged my father’s funeral to gain control of his property while he was missing.
One photograph showed mourners standing outside Pinecrest Cemetery.
Carter was in the background, speaking with my former attorney, Lucas Grant.
Grant had ignored evidence that might have cleared me. He had pushed me to accept a plea deal. When I refused, he barely defended me at trial.
Dana searched his office.
Lucas was gone.
So were his case files.
That evening, a delivery arrived at the house.
Inside the box was my prison identification card and a phone.
The phone rang.
Lucas Grant’s voice trembled.
“Finnley, Carter has my daughter.”
“Where?”
“He wants the trust money. Reagan told him you have access.”
“I don’t.”
“He doesn’t believe me.”
A girl screamed in the background.
Carter took the phone.
“You cost me my mother, my home and my future.”
“You did that yourself.”
“I want eight million dollars.”
“The trust can’t be released that fast.”
“Then find a way.”
He gave me six hours.
If I contacted police, he would kill Lucas’s seventeen-year-old daughter, Sophie.
Dana traced the call to three possible towers. One was near Pinecrest Cemetery.
I remembered Reagan’s fake funeral.
The empty grave beside my mother wasn’t simply unused. A burial vault had been installed beneath it.
At midnight, we opened it.
A ladder led into a concrete chamber.
Lucas was tied to a pipe.
His face was covered in blood.
“Where’s Sophie?” I asked.
He looked at me with shame.
“I’m sorry.”
The chamber lights came on.
There was no kidnapped girl.
Carter’s voice came through a speaker.
May you like
Lucas had lied again.
And we had walked directly into Carter’s trap.
